


give me someone to lean on

by unbridgeabledistances



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Coda, Fix-It (kind of?), M/M, One Shot, and franny is my fav, i truly love 'uncle mickey' so much, wholesome domestic gallavich!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbridgeabledistances/pseuds/unbridgeabledistances
Summary: “Uncle Mickey, Uncle Ian, can I ask you a question?”Ian raised his eyebrows and looked at Mickey, who already was giving an it’s-not-my-fault look back at Ian for whatever inappropriate question way beyond her maturity level that Franny was about to ask. She and Mickey had already had conversations about guns and murder and money laundering; whatever she was about to ask, the ball was fully in Mickey’s court to handle this one. Ian communicated as much by prodding Mickey in his side, prompting him to roll his eyes at Ian and reply.“Sure thing, kiddo, ask away.”“Today at breakfast, you asked everybody in the kitchen, like Mommy and Uncle Lip, which one of you was a man, right?”--Or, Franny and the best uncles have a heart to heart about gender after S11 Ep 3
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 11
Kudos: 236





	give me someone to lean on

**Author's Note:**

> the gallagher family dynamic & franny being an icon this whole episode was making me emotional so i wrote this!!

It was late at the Gallagher house; the TV was droning on some news channel at low volume, casting a glow across the dark room onto the couch where Ian was sitting. Mickey was pressed up against him, leaning half of his body weight onto Ian’s left arm and his upper torso. He was breathing slowly and heavily, looking more peaceful than he had all week, the lines of anger and worry totally erased. Ian lifted his other arm and ran a hand through Mickey’s hair, who sighed contentedly in his sleep, and kept watching the flickering TV. They weren’t the only ones on the couch; sprawled onto Mickey was a sleeping Franny, wearing a pink fluffy dress that, if Ian was being honest, looked incredibly scratchy and uncomfortable, and her hand dangling off the couch and limply holding the plastic AK-47 Mickey had gotten her for her birthday. Mickey and Franny had been running around in the yard playing with the toy guns for hours after dinner, when they’d all awkwardly inhaled some frozen lasagna and Lip had sheepishly gone upstairs to try and apologize to Debbie. Sensing the tension, Mickey had grabbed the guns right after dinner and whisked Franny outside to play in the yard until late after dark, until they came in and collapsed on the couch.

Franny shifted in her sleep slightly, stretched, and yawned as her eyes opened. She looked up at Ian, then at Mickey’s sleeping face. She put her hand up and poked Mickey’s cheek.

“Uncle Mickey?” She asked sleepily.

Mickey’s eyelids fluttered open and he gave a drowsy smile when he saw Franny laying in his lap, looking up at him.

“Hey there, kiddo.”

“Uncle Mickey, were you sleeping?”

“Hell yeah I was, bigshot. You gave me a run for my money earlier, chasing me outside in the yard trying to blow my face off.”

“It’s true, Fran” Ian added, leaning across Mickey to nudge her shoulder. “You’re the toughest girl we’ve ever met. Even tougher than Sandy, and she used to beat up Uncle Mickey all the time when he was little.”

Franny giggled slightly, and nestled back into Mickey’s chest again, sighing and closing her eyes. The three of them were silent for a moment—then Franny’s voice piped up again.

“Uncle Mickey, Uncle Ian, can I ask you a question?”

Ian raised his eyebrows and looked at Mickey, who already was giving an it’s-not-my-fault look back at Ian for whatever inappropriate question way beyond her maturity level that Franny was about to ask. She and Mickey had already had conversations about guns and murder and money laundering; whatever she was about to ask, the ball was fully in Mickey’s court to handle this one. Ian communicated as much by prodding Mickey in his side, prompting him to roll his eyes at Ian and reply.

“Sure thing, kiddo, ask away.”

Franny’s eyes were still closed as she sleepily nestled against Mickey’s chest.

“Today at breakfast, you asked everybody in the kitchen, like Mommy and Uncle Lip, which one of you was a man, right?”

Ian bit back a laugh. _Oh my god_. The Gallaghers had never been known to censor sensitive content in the presence of children, but he didn’t directly expect Franny to _ask_ about the more… intimate dynamics of he and Mickey’s relationship. Mickey clearly didn’t think so either, because he was starting to look a little panicked about where this question was veering, and flashed a look at Ian to help. Ian decided to take the reins.

“Yeah, we did Fran, but we were just joking around. Uncle Mickey and me, we love each other a lot, and that’s why we got married. But some people who are married, they’re a man and a woman. Or I guess a woman and a woman, like your mom and Sandy— but we were just joking around, about how most people who are married are a man and... a lady. Does that… make sense?”

Mickey looked relieved, and Ian hoped that was enough of an answer to quell any more questions. He peered over at Franny’s face, and saw that her eyes were open and her brow was furrowed in concentration as she blankly stared ahead at the TV screen. She took a moment to calculate before speaking again.

“Okay. But…. You and Uncle Mickey don’t feel like you’re girls? Ever?”

Mickey smirked a bit, and Ian elbowed him, trying to keep the conversation solidly G-rated. “No, Franny, we don’t. We’re both guys, and we love each other, like all mommies and daddies and mommies and mommies do. That makes sense, right?”

Franny nodded slowly. Then she looked down at the princess dress she was wearing.

“Uncle Ian, I don’t like wearing this dress. I only wore it because Grandpa Frank told me it would make Mommy happy.”

“That’s okay, Franny. You’re allowed to wear whatever you want to wear. You can change into pajamas when we go upstairs.”

Franny’s brows furrowed even deeper. “No, Uncle Ian! I don’t want to wear any dress ever! Not just this one! I never ever want to wear a dress again!”

Ian was starting to get it.

“Okay, Franny. We’re listening. What… what do you think you want to wear instead?”

“Pants. Like boys. I want to wear boy clothes, because I’m a boy. Like you and Liam and Uncle Mickey.”

Mickey had his deer-in-the-headlights face on again, like this conversation was far too deep for him to even be listening to. Ian, on the other hand, was totally calm. So his niece might actually be his nephew? No big deal. They could all handle that, would all still love and support Franny. He gave Mickey a stern, get-your-shit-together-and-say-something look. Mickey blinked, snapping out of an apparently deep train of thought.

“Hey, Franny, sit up for a second.”

Franny rose from where she was laying, and sat on the couch facing Mickey and Ian, crossing her legs and looking at them attentively.

“Kid, you know that me and Uncle Ian, and everyone in your family love you more than anything, right?”

Franny nodded. “Right.”

Mickey continued. “So, uh, whatever you want to wear, and however you want us to… see you, you know you just have to tell us, okay? We can tell your mom to calm the fuck down with the princess stuff if that’s what it takes.”

Ian smirked. Mickey wasn’t great at kid-friendly language, but the essential message was getting through.

“Uncle Mickey is right, Franny. Whether you’re a boy or a girl, we just want you to be happy and wear the clothes you want to wear.”

Franny nodded, and smiled.

“Uncle Ian, thank you for listening to me. I want Mommy to listen to me too.”

Ian smiled. Debbie had never been great at listening, especially when she was in her anxious mom mode, but he figured he and Mickey handle talking to her about this one.

“You got it, Franny. We can all talk to Mommy together about the dresses, whenever you want to. Does that sound okay?”

Franny nodded even more enthusiastically, then began to yawn. “Can we go to bed now?”

Mickey stood up and reached for Franny’s hand, pulling her off the couch. “C’mon, killer. Let’s go put on your pajamas so you never have to wear a dress again.”

Mickey led Franny up the stairs, and Ian gently smiled to himself as he shut off the TV. _Nice parenting, Mr. Gallagher._

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed, kudos/comments make my heart happy <3


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